Unspoken Savior
by MadMadysonn
Summary: While on the plane to finally face Stryker, James dwells on thoughts of Team X and an old teammate of his, Raylene. After seeing James get shot with an adamantium bullet and lose his memory, Raylene searches for Wade, hoping to save him. Further into the future, Wade lingers on his feelings for Raylene. WadeXOC. Minor JamesXOC (if you squint). Three-shot. R&R.
1. James

**Author's Note: Why hello there dear reader! This particular story just happen to write itself as I watched X-Men Origins: Wolverine last week. I kind of realized that there were definitely people on their team that were just like never mentioned at all. I mean, obviously they were extras and stuff...but yeah, anyways! Please enjoy, even though I will warn you, unless I suddenly decide to make one while typing this story up, there really isn't a lemon to it, though I'm making it rated M for safety.**

* * *

James stared out the window of the plane as it flew high above the ground and sent another wave of nausea over him. He was trying not to dwell on the way the pit of his stomach felt, letting himself get lost in the memories of better days. Somehow, his memories just drifted to that of Team X. He growled inwardly, but with nausea threatening, he allowed it to happen.

There was always one member of Team X that anyone barely ever talked about, one they barely saw as it was. Raylene preferred the shadows, the darkness of wherever they went. She truly was her powers, darkness manipulation, as Stryker put it into fancy words. It wasn't like she spoke much anyways. She was essentially the embodiment of darkness, at least in her victims eyes. Jet black hair that moved with every lethal move she made when you could see her. With her powers though, she became a shadow more than you could ever see her. The only things that portrayed any sense of kindness or mercy were the facts that her skin was as pale as could be and that her eyes, blue and typically cold as the ice they looked like, have been known to shown emotion occasionally.

The only times James had ever seen them were the occasions that the team was nearly failing a mission, he had made a mental note that he both smelt and saw hints of fear coming from her while they were at the rendezvous point, waiting for the team to regroup, and one drunken night. The team had been off that night, Stryker undoubtedly plotting his next ruthless act and the boys were drinking. She suddenly appeared, like she always did, and simply took Bradley's drink. The man never fought with her over it, maybe he had manners, but odds were that he had a misguided crush on her.

Either way, she stayed at their table as she silently drank Bradley, Wade and Wraith under the table in a challenge put forth by the merc with the mouth. She laughed softly as she slid the newly offered drink away, speaking for once, to Fred who had pushed it back to her. "I couldn't," her blue orbs had mirth, humor, even a sort of niceness to them, "I've drank my share of this pitiful bar's stores."

She has stood up with a wobble, her lean legs hidden by the loose green fatigues they wore. She yawned as she stretched a bit, her rather large chest jutting out from beneath the green shirt she wore unbuttoned, a green tank top and her dog tags underneath. She locked eyes briefly with Victor, who had been staring at her breasts as they had been shown. "If you're thinking about appearing in my tent Victor, don't, or we'll see how fast you heal from my umbrablades."

James laughed, seeing his brother fidget slightly. Victor, however, only grinned. "And we'll see how beautiful your pretty little throat looks covered in blood once I slit it."

"Easy Victor," James grumbled as he noticed Victor's claws lengthening, "Raylene was only kidding, right Ray?"

"Sure, only kidding." Then she simply dissipated into the shadows again. It was the last time he truly saw her before he left the team. James couldn't help but wonder where they were when he was back in Canada, especially her and his brother. He had figured he was better off not knowing where Victor was, but her, it was up in the air for her. Sometimes he'd imagine she was still with Stryker, in the shadows as she pulled off his plans. Other times, she'd be a pickpocket, living large on the streets. On a few occasions, he saw her living a normal and quiet life, much like the one he had with Kayla. He got an answer once, before Stryker had ever lured him back into this mess.

She did as she always did, appearing out of the shadows next to him as he had stood out on the balcony. He should have realized she was here since he had smelt something akin to smoke from her brand of cigarettes and the cherry scent of her body wash. He had only shrugged it off as Kayla massacring some sort of baked good before leaving to her parents' house this weekend. He chuckled as Raylene handed him a beer. She returned to leaning on the railing of the balcony beside, and he had breathed her in. She still didn't wear perfume, but her hair had grown much longer, cascading down past her lower back.

"You've got a nice life here James. I'm proud. Would've been upset if you had wasted these last years." Raylene gave him a grin, one he almost admitted to himself that he missed, if he didn't know how cruel it could turn. He took a long draught of the cold beer before responding to what could be a harsh and sarcastic wit, if he remembered correctly from that one night he really saw her personality.

"Yeah, it's nice. What about yours?"

"I've been drifting, going where the wind takes me. Nothing really changed from before the team though. I still live in the shadows, still pick pockets, still occasionally kill. Mind you, I only kill the bastards who try to rape me this time around."

"Well, you're looking good kid, but how did you find me?"

"I was in the neighborhood truthfully. I know one of your lumberjack friends. Saw you out there and waited to talk so I didn't scare your girl."

She was good, at least thoughtful of his new life. His pickpocket idea was right, which had truthfully disappointed him a bit since she hadn't managed to settle down. They talked through most of the night, mostly about her, which was refreshingly surprising. He noticed she was coming out of her shell, no doubt from being back in society again. The things he learned about her were amusing though. Her favorite color was royal purple, like a car she had been extremely tempted to steal. She had only been 18 when they first met, being recruited from the streets, and making her in about her mid-twenties. She didn't know much about the team, save for letters she and Wade used to exchange. She mentioned how they had abruptly ended, and how she was truthfully afraid of something bad coming for all of their old team. Then, like she had many times before, she disappeared into the dark.


	2. Raylene

James had been too lost in whatever thoughts he must have had to register the scent of smoke and cherries belonging to an old friend during the plane ride. Raylene didn't mind though, she wanted to remain unnoticed in the small plane, which was difficult as it was. She had been talking with John, or Wraith, about the Island herself, trying to track Wade down. She knew James had talked to him, and Wraith had 'fessed up to James, so it was only logical to tail James. This was where it had led her, hiding in a small plane with a Cajun, waiting for James to return. If what she head was right, well then, she was glad she got out of their team about the same time James left. She didn't stay hidden with the Cajun in the plane for long, just long enough to end up being rendered useless in James' and Victor's fight with what Wade had been made into. Just long enough to see and know James lost his memory. Just long enough to see Kayla's last, and redeeming, actions. She gave the woman credit, but there was nothing Raylene could have done.

She ran into the crumbling rubble of what was left of the place. Not all was ruined as she found a mostly intact room with a monitor showing a security camera feed, but she gasped as she watched Wade's arm grab his decapitated head on screen. He was still alive, and she'd be damned if she didn't try to save him. She began to dash out but froze in place. She shivered deeply as she heard Wade shush her from the camera feed. Had he even heard her get into the building? Either way, she was rushing out to find him, no matter the risk.

There were so many things between her and Wade that she left secret from anyone. The night she had joined the boys in a bar to drink, she had also joined Wade in his tent. It had been more like she waited for him in the shadows, afraid to even be taking the risk of rejection. She genuinely liked Wade, and those emotions were hard to handle without there even being rejection. She didn't want to be left alone again, like she had been when her parents died. Drinking that night, laughing with all of her teammates, she had been so at ease. Out of all her teammates, Wade had always went out of his way to make her smile.

When he finally got to his tent, she allowed herself to be seen, speaking quietly to the one known as the merc with a mouth, "Wade-"

"Holy shit! We need to get you a collar with like some bells, you're always just popping up." He had jumped slightly, having been just a bit scared, as he began to put away his belongings for the night. He watched her wearily, knowing that she liked to appear innocent before killing someone. She only giggled, a sound still foreign to his ears though he was adjusting. She was beginning to laugh more around him, which he would have to admit, he liked.

"Wade," she began softly again, "I just wanted to tell you how funny I think you are. I know everyone tells you to shut up and -"

"Yeah, especially James. I mean, I'm not ragging on his holier-than-thou air. Nice to know I have a fan though, I better remember to record you seriously saying I'm funny though, it's hard for people to believe me. I'm not quite sure why though...I mean I was serious about that man-eating chihuahua."

"I don't even mind being interrupted, I just-"

"I would hope you don't mind. I usually don't take too kind to assassination attempts. Even if the assassin is as hot as you."

"Just shut up and kiss me Wade, before I do kill you." Exasperated, she pulled him by the shirt, crashing their lips together. She was glad to find his lips willing and his hands warm on her hips. When they parted for air, she rolled her eyes playfully as he began to add a snarky comment, her grinning all the while.

"I see you've found a good way to shut me up. The question is: can you find them all?"

She laughed as her hands kneaded at his chest lazily. "You know, I've always liked a challenge, but get this: anything besides that kiss, costs a date, a real date, once we're out of her. I get paid up front before you get anything too."

She continued her light laugh as she lifted his jaw with a finger to close it as it rested agape at her declaration. Swiftly remembering who he was, and living up to his name, Wade added his little bit. "As long as we don't end up wearing the same dress, it was so awkward the last time it happened, I'm willing to test it out."

That night, she stayed in his tent, and in his arms, like she did the rest of her nights while she remained with the team. Besides the bedtime snuggling, the attempts at seducing her, and the occasional grope he managed to get in when he could, things never got very physical. When she left the team a few weeks after James did, acting on what was one of her better thoughts of conscience, she succeeded in weaseling an address to write him to, and he succeeded in getting a farewell lap dance from her in exchange for the address. She kept to her declaration though, not letting the lap dance get too wild. She didn't find the courage to write him until a year after she was gone. It took her only a month to receive a letter back.

_Dear Miss Coriander,  
Okay, so that's about as formal as I'll ever get. I'm glad you finally decided to write. I was starting to worry that wherever you were ran out of trees and paper. Apparently New York City has made an exception to your rations now, congrats. All sarcasm delayed, glad you decided to keep in touch.  
You should be glad you left when you did, it's starting to get a little too ugly for even my obviously sensitive tastes. I don't know why we're doing what we are, but the money's good and Stryker says we're helping out all of our kind. Okay, so maybe he hasn't gotten better at bullshit. I don't really care though, we're still kicking ass.  
Damn, I miss you more than I miss pancakes and chimichangas, and that's saying something! We haven't had a decent meal over here in weeks. I'm beginning to think Stryker just gets off on control. It would explain all that pulling rank shit he tries to do. I bet I'd find tons of pictures of chicks tied up in his personal effects. How this line of thought went from me honestly just thinking of that lap dance you gave me to Stryker's porn stash, I'll never know.  
We're heading out soon, probably another mission where I don't get to kill anything. Oh the joy...Listen, well technically read, I'm heading home to Canada soon. I want you to come with me, if you want. Then I'll take you on that date.  
_

She still had that letter with her, wherever she went. She had planned on going, but a few letters after the first, she got horrible news. The doctors had told Wade he had cancer. Stryker said he could help, if Wade stayed. He told her not to come back to the team for him. He stressed it. He wrote that it was getting to be too much, even for him. They kept correspondence up until three months before she saw James again. His letters were never more than a month's wait, but they had been growing more distraught. She tried her best to offer any comfort she could, including pictures of herself to put in his room or something, and she hated being seen.

That was when she decided to go to Canada. She called in an old favor from a Canadian friend, and set off to the Northwestern Territories to coordinate her search efforts there. When she got there, she saw James again, and took off from there. Following him from afar, she found herself surprised Victor didn't find her too. That, or she figured that she wasn't necessary to any of Stryker's plans.

Then she ended up in this mess, crying quietly as she ran through the rubble, trying to find the merc who stole her heart. She choked on a sob as she spotted him, running over to him in relief. She didn't even care that her normally well groomed hair was disheveled or that she was still wearing a black t-shirt and jeans she had been for the last three days. The relief she was feeling was short lived as Wade held her up by her throat, choking the life slowly out of her and tilting his head.

"Who are you?" Wade's voice was harsh and demanding, no humor to be found. No Wade to be found.

"Raylene C-Coriander." She choked out, knowing that if she phased through his grip with her powers, they'd only end up fighting. As her legs wriggled to find a purchase to relieve some of the pressure on her throat, the letter she had in her pocket fell out. She swallowed hard, it being no help as he picked it up with one hand.

He released her just as she thought she was truly going to die. Her blue orbs frantically searching his brown ones for any sense of recognition. She held onto his arm, pleading for once in her life. "Please remember me Wade," sirens from emergency responders wailed closer and closer, "before it's too late."


	3. Wade

It had been a year since Wade lost a majority of his memories, but he had been lucky. If his operation hadn't been ended prematurely, he would have forever lost himself and become Deadpool without a way back. The drugs Stryker had used to control him faded, but if it wasn't for Raylene, he'd be back in Stryker's clutches. He decided he was where he should've been seven years ago. he was in a house, in the middle of nowhere, in Canada, with the woman who loved him, and that he loved back.

He still had cancer, even with the healing factor he retained. With it now, he just wouldn't die from the cancer, he'd just live with it for the rest of his life. Just like now he had to live with what he's done. He never regretted the killing he's done beyond what any normal person would, but he never should have let his fear of death bring him to kidnapping mutants for experiments. His love's stirring form brought him forth from his darkening thoughts.

Her ice blue eyes melted with concern as she rubbed his bare back, rising up in a sitting position too in their bed. He watched her, able to blink. Man, not having eyelids for a stretch was real annoying. He spent so much money on eye drops the couple of months it took for them to grow back.

"Hmm, do you need some distraction right now Wade?" Oh how he loved her thinking. Any time he seemed upset she would offer herself, it always came with a nice rack and a tight pussy belonging to an awesome personality. His only complaint about her was that she was terrible at keeping them stocked up on pancakes and chimichangas.

His train of thought quickly drifted from eating food to eating her...out. He ain't no cannibal. He's a ladies' man, and his lady never minded the scars he had. He descended upon her lips, melding their lips together in a delicious fit he had only found with her. He tried to suppress the crazier thoughts he had, a side effect of the control drugs, though her powers managed to help surprisingly. When they called it darkness manipulation, they meant it. She was able to manipulate some of his insanity right out, only after they had made love for the first time. Something about her needing to feel extreme emotions...

Oh ho ho! He had her moaning just from the kisses he was placing along her neck. He knew just where to nibble and..., "Wade!"

"Say it louder for me love, you're always so quiet, like a slug." She chuckled at the last part, but when he bit with more pressure, he was rewarded with a scream of pleasure. He didn't let her stop screaming all night either. It was as if the more blinding pleasure he gave to her, the clearer his mind felt.

He held her close once he was spent, after being milked by her fifth orgasm of that one round. He nuzzled deep into her neck, smelling the sweat, smoke and cherries he was familiar with, knowing where each scent came from. The cherries were from the brand of body wash she used, buying no other. The smoke was from her favorite brand of cigarettes, which she smoked only before every meal. The shadow he had known was in his arms, still quiet, but now he knew where to look to read her emotions, her eyes, if visible. He could read the nuances in them, and right now, well right now they reflected his. Which meant she was showing how much he meant to her, that he was her unspoken savior.


End file.
